


Possessed by Light

by glim



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic, Canon Era, M/M, Magic, Romance, Snow, Winter Solstice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-22 14:53:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17061857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glim/pseuds/glim
Summary: The first snow of the season falls light and quick, a week before the solstice, and an hour before dawn.





	Possessed by Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lyryk (s_k)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/s_k/gifts).



> Happy Holidays, lyryk! I loved all your prompts, but found the second quote so incredibly evocative and inspirational. I hope you enjoy this short fic and that your holiday season is full of warmth. 
> 
> Thank you to the wonderful mods for running this fest again this year!

_"These, our bodies, possessed by light. Tell me we'll never get used to it."_

* * * 

 

The first snow of the season falls light and quick, a week before the solstice, and an hour before dawn. The first flakes float soft and silent over the ramparts of the castle and catch the last glimmer of starlight along their edges. 

There's magic in the muted sparkle of the snow against the lightening sky and Merlin can feel it edge along his senses, the light and the magic. He had sensed the snow before it began to fall; had felt the anticipation in the cold, nighttime air, and the sharp tang of ice against the back of his throat as he walked from the king's chambers to the ramparts of the castle. 

This is the magic that's never faded from Camelot: the brightness of the first snow of the winter season, the light of the stars and the clean, crisp, cold early morning air, the rawness of the winter earth and the new life waiting to spring forth from it. That magic has always been inherent in the land itself and nothing, no human decree, could ban elemental magic from the kingdom. 

The same magic put Arthur on the throne of Camelot, Merlin thinks, and holds the palm of his hand up towards the sky to catch the snowflakes against his skin. The same magic that waits, dormant and golden-warm, in Arthur's heart. 

Merlin spares a few more minutes to think of the warmth of Arthur's body curled close to his in bed beneath a pile of warm furs and blankets, his arm slung around Merlin's waist, and his lips pressed to the back of Merlin's shoulder. 

He's awake now, Merlin knows, for he'd woken up as soon as Merlin had slipped from bed, murmured something about it being too cold, but had leaned up into the kiss Merlin gave him with a slow, sleepy smile. Arthur's awake, shuffling through his morning correspondence by flicking candlelight as the snow falls outside, and around him the castle comes awake, too. 

Within minutes, footsteps ring across the courtyard as light gathers at the edge of the horizon. Merlin gathers in one long, deep breath of the cold air himself and watches as the first rays of weak, winter sunlight shimmer along the edges of the falling snow. 

Merlin meets a kitchen page on his walk back to the royal apartments and offers to take the tray from the boy. 

"It's for the king," the boy says, uncertain, and then smiles in reply to Merlin's nod. 

"Yes, indeed. I can take it to him, then. And you can get yourself breakfast early this morning, before all the sweet rolls are gone." Merlin hefts the tray carefully from the boy's hands and gets another quick, shy smile in return before he scarpers off down the passage to the servants' staircase. 

Arthur gives him a smile, too, when Merlin enters the king's chambers. "I thought you'd given up bringing me breakfast years ago." 

"Yes, well, you're just lucky this morning I suppose. Hot cider, sweetbread, and fruit," Merlin adds, and places the tray next to Arthur at the table. 

Arthur smiles again, soft, fond, and a little perplexed, and reaches up to brush the back of his hand against Merlin's cheek. "You really did go out to look at a few flurries of snow. I suppose now I'll have to stand out there with you this afternoon for some sort of--well, I don't know, ritual?" 

"Celebration," Merlin says. The perplexity in Arthur's expression deepens, though the effect is more endearing than anything else. "It's too early for you to be thinking that hard." 

"I've been working since you left earlier. I'm almost certain that required a bit more thinking than watching the snow start to fall." Arthur scoffs, but accepts the cup of hot pear cider Merlin offers him, then tugs Merlin down to sit next to him. "You did leave me." 

"Only for a bit..." Merlin shies away from the way Arthur tries to nuzzle into his neck, then relents at the soft, warm touch of Arthur's lips against the side of his neck. He's being affectionate, and willing to allow himself such softness this morning, surely, Merlin could let himself take advantage of that, too. 

"It's very cold outside," Arthur murmurs. He kisses Merlin's neck again, then smiles against his skin when Merlin moves into the touch. "I can smell it on your skin and clothes: snow, and the winter wind." 

Arthur pauses and kisses Merlin once again, more lightly this time, and slides an arm around his waist. "And magic." 

Warmth pools, sunlight gold, in Merlin's chest when he hears the fondness in Arthur's voice. Like the snow, the warmth and affection shimmer along Merlin's senses until he discovers it's indistinguishable from the brightness of magic at the edge of his awareness. 

"Just for you," Merlin says. Not that he keeps his magic well-hidden from anyone anymore, but only Arthur gets to feel the raw-edged newness of it every day like this. "Anyway, I was able to get your breakfast on the way back inside and save one of your pages the trial of seeing you first thing in the morning." 

Arthur laughs into the crook of Merlin's neck, then pulls away to drink his cider and share the bread and fruit with Merlin. Scattered across the table are the letters and unsealed documents that Arthur had been reading this morning, Outside, the sun is new-risen and the guttering candles weaken, but still flicker dully in the morning light. Arthur pushes a pile of papers aside to slide his arm around Merlin's waist and to keep him close while they finish breakfast and talk quietly. 

"A celebration, then?" He asks. "You know, we're already having one next week." 

"Yes, for the turning of the year. With..." Merlin glances over the papers and deciphers one of Arthur's scratched-out lists. "... morris dancers, and a pantomime." 

"Don't even pretend you don't adore both of those. The more childish the entertainment, the more you--" 

"You _love_ the pantomime. It's your favorite." Merlin laughs at Arthur's sigh, then catches his mouth in a quick, deep kiss before Arthur can object. "Just come watch the snow with me after your court sessions." 

"Shall I put it on one of these lists? That'll make it official, at least." Arthur makes a move to take up the shuffle of papers again, then subsides when Merlin tugs to sit back down. "You know I will," he says, and glances aside, suddenly shy. "But only for you."


End file.
